


A Noble Crusade

by The Jester (HAHAHAHAHA)



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Action, Crime Solving, Illustrations, M/M, Major Original Character(s), Mystery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 04:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12927459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HAHAHAHAHA/pseuds/The%20Jester
Summary: When night falls, Gotham's citizens can rest easy knowing Batman is patrolling the streets. With the appearance of a new vigilante, criminals had better start watching their backs during daylight hours as well!But what if Gotham's self-proclaimed "Daytime Protector" starts making folks question if Batman is necessary at all?





	A Noble Crusade

**Author's Note:**

> Haha! Heehee! Hoohooooo--*clears throat dramatically*
> 
> Good day, fine denizens of AO3! The tale we are about to embark on is one I've had in mind for a LOOONG time. Definitely at least 5 years, though I'm certain it's been brewing far longer than that. 
> 
> This will be the first work I've ever uploaded to any fanfiction website, and the first Batman fic I've ever written. Scary, right? Have no fear, my dears! We will make it through this perilous journey together. :D
> 
> A Few Important Notes:
> 
> ♠ I will add tags as they become relevant. However, I will likely also leave out some tags to avoid spoilers. If there are any tags you believe SHOULD be added as the story progresses, please let me know!
> 
> ♦ I am not following any particular continuity, but I am drawing inspiration from several different sources. This means that there may be developments you wouldn't expect if you're imagining a particular comic/movie/series! 
> 
> ♣ This story will have illustrations sprinkled throughout, provided by the marvelous [REDACTED]. Honestly, there has never been a better motivator!
> 
> That's all for now~

Bruce knows it's a grievous overstatement the moment the thought enters his mind, but for an instant he is at least somewhat convinced that he's never been more thankful for all the time and effort he poured into perfecting his acting ability. Without missing a beat, Bruce smiles charmingly at the stunningly beautiful up-and-coming actress who’d just proclaimed Bruce’s enthusiastic support of Hamilton Children's Fund to all of Gotham. Though his eyes crinkle appropriately at the corners and the upward turn of his lips certainly appears genuine, Bruce is seething internally. 

Ordinarily, Bruce would not be quite so riled up by even such a grievous misinterpretation of his words (bordering on a flat-out lie). However, it had been mere hours since the results of Jason’s most recent intel gathering expedition had finally yielded fruit for his current solo case. They’d long suspected that HCF was a front for something much more sinister, but neither had banked on human trafficking. Jason had looked exceptionally, almost frighteningly angry when he reported his findings, Though, honestly, Bruce probably shouldn’t even be surprised at this point. Sometimes, he worried about the path that kid was on…

The blonde woman – Ariadne, as he’d heard no less than nineteen times that evening; she certainly never missed an opportunity to promote herself – currently attached to his arm gushed at the cameras with all the enthusiasm of someone who’d just been handed the keys to the city. She’d begun regaling the ever-eager paparazzi with her own charitable exploits, which seemed somewhat unnecessary considering that they were presently attending a fundraising gala. Had Bruce not been there due mostly to a lead that Penguin may be the one backing the event, he’d have made his excuses and ducked out long ago. 

“Bruuucie!” A grating, whiny voice suddenly pierced his awareness, and Bruce’s stormy blue eyes focused back on the icy orbs currently being directed at him. “Aren’t you going to ask me to dance?” Ariadne’s next words were all smoke and honey, a tone he was quite certain she’d affected as part of her stage persona. Apparently, she was ready to move onto giving the media plenty of visual material to work with. From what he’d heard, she was quite an impressive dancer.

“Of course, mademoiselle.” Bruce made a grandiose gesture of bowing low to kiss her hand, in part to avoid having to speak with the various paparazzi who still looked ready to jump back in with more questions if given even the slightest opportunity. Bruce hadn’t even bothered to deny his date’s false claim. He had no good excuse for why he wouldn’t support such an “exemplary” organization. At least, not one that didn’t involve information he shouldn’t be privy to. Were he to rebuke the actress’s proclamation without a reasonable comeback, it would reflect poorly on himself as a philanthropist and, by extension, Wayne Enterprises. 

Bruce escorted the blonde to the center of the extravagant room, listening to her chatter away about nothing of any interest to him. He had just begun lowering his hand onto her waist, a well-timed flirtatious remark primed and ready on his lips, when the first gunshots rang out.

Ariadne screamed and clung to Bruce’s torso, making a valiant effort to drag him down to the relative safety of the ground even as Bruce cast his eyes deftly around the room in an attempt to locate the source of the commotion. 

“Brucie, what are you doing?!” The woman all but screeched up at him. More gunshots and more screaming rang out around them, a definite panic having taken hold among the crowd of Gotham’s rich and powerful. This was precisely what Bruce had been expecting all along. Ever since Penguin had negotiated his way out of Blackgate a few months prior, he’d been working tirelessly to reestablish his hold on the underground circuit. His increasingly bold exploits had managed to piss off Two-Face _and_ Black Mask, so it was only a matter of time before one or the other made a move to re-assert their territorial dominance. Judging by the ridiculous two-tone getups adorning the handful of cronies Bruce could now clearly see amongst the cowering and terrified party guests, Two-Face had decided to strike first.

Bruce finally looked down at the woman who was frantically tugging his arm, seemingly trying to get him to hide under a tablecloth with her. “I’m going to get you out of here.” He said seriously, tacking on a hint of his signature overly-confident smirk to make the gesture seem more “genuine”. The actress’s eyes lit up, as though she’d never heard anything so macho in her life. 

“Oh, I’m definitely keeping you!” She giggled briefly, her icy-eyed gaze turning grim after the sound was overpowered by several gruff voices barking angry commands that promised violence to anyone who disobeyed. “But, really, you should get down. I don’t want my Brucie getting _shot_!” There was something about the way Ariadne said the last word that made the smirk fall from Bruce’s lips. He didn’t have much time to ponder the odd intonation, however. 

Pain suddenly exploded from Bruce’s right temple. During the several seconds it took to regain his bearings, Bruce’s mind was frantically trying to figure out where the attack had come from. All of the known assailants were at least fifteen feet away from his current position, and he hadn’t let his guard down even while attempting to reassure his date. Affecting an appropriately fearful look, hand cupping the side of his face, Bruce turned partially towards the direction the blow had come from. His mistake was immediately apparent.

One of the paparazzi from earlier had ditched his camera and was now pointing a (surprisingly tiny and definitely easy to conceal) revolver at the pair of them. Once Bruce’s ears finally stopped ringing, he was not at all surprised to note that Ariadne was now screaming hysterically from her only partially hidden position beneath the tablecloth. The not-paparazzi suddenly swung his gun more fully towards the terrified blonde, and her voice went up a seemingly impossible octave.

“One more sound, and I can guarantee you’ll be front page news by tomorrow.” The man spoke in a voice much more deep and gruff than one would expect from such a young-looking face. The affect of his words was immediate and striking: Ariadne’s voice cut off so suddenly that Bruce could swear there was an echo, and heavy tears began pouring from her eyes at an alarming volume; she looked up at Bruce as though he were her only hope in the world. 

While the billionaire worked on devising a strategy for getting the two of them out of there without making a scene, he hunkered down over his poor date protectively. The expression now adorning his face was a convincing mixture of anger and panic, as though he was determined to protect the blonde but didn’t entirely believe he was capable of doing so. 

“I-I-I won’t let you lay a finger on her!” Bruce cleared his throat for effect. “Do you have any idea who I am? I’ll make sure you regret threatening us!”

As Bruce had hoped, the man’s attention returned to the billionaire despite his less than impressive declaration. He huffed out a sound that might have been a humorless laugh. “And what are you going to do? Throw a wad of cash at me?”

Bruce wanted to roll his eyes. Even his persona deserved more credit than that. The glare Bruce shot the man was a little less fake this time around.

“You’d be surprised how much money can hurt you.”

For some reason, this comment seemed to rile the fake cameraman up much more than Bruce had anticipated. Just as the billionaire was beginning to steel himself for another whack from the man’s revolver, an unexpected intrusion appeared in the form of a multicolored gun-for-hire.

“Penguin must not be as smart as Boss thinks if he only sent one’a youse guys against all’a us!”

The thug’s voice was so stereotypically gangster that it _had_ to be fake, but far be it from Bruce to look a gift horse in the mouth. For his part, the false paparazzi appeared to be thoroughly displeased that his pistol whipping had been disrupted. 

“Does it look like I have any interest in whatever it is you tacky muscleheads have been doing?” 

“Uhh...” Apparently, this was not the response the thug had been expecting. Not-Paparazzi sighed exasperatedly, finally turning his attention away from Bruce. 

“I don’t work for that overfed waterfowl, you uneducated buffoon!”

“If you ain’t one’a Penguin’s men, then who the f--?” Seemingly out of nowhere, the thug’s face froze mid-sentence. While the anger was still there, his mouth gaped open and closed in what was certainly the best impression of a fish Bruce had ever seen. It would have been comical, were it not so bizarrely confusing. Bruce shot a quick glance over to the “paparazzi”, confirming that neither his stance nor his unimpressed expression had changed. What was happening here?

The thug had begun shaking his head very slowly, gun hand trembling with obvious distress. He was mumbling something along the lines of “You ain’t him...”. Clearly, Two-Face’s goon recognized the false cameraman. Seeing such a strong reaction in this sort of situation was definitely unexpected, but Bruce would work out the details later. Right now, he’d just been handed the perfect opportunity. 

Moving as quickly as he could while still remaining silent, Bruce backed himself and Ariadne the rest of the way beneath the tablecloth. She was trembling even more violently than the thug had been, but Bruce needed her to focus. Gently, soothingly, he thumbed away some of the tears that were still tumbling freely down the traumatized actress’s cheeks. After a moment of hesitation, she peeled her eyes away from the blessedly undisturbed white fabric that now surrounded them. When she focused on Bruce’s stormy gaze instead, he noticed a trickle of blood leaking slowly from her lip. Apparently, she’d been biting it in a desperate attempt to remain silent. Bruce felt a pang of genuine sympathy for her.

“I told you I’d get you out of here, remember? My driver should be outside. He can take you home.” Bruce whispered these words urgently and with a reassuring smile. The blonde nodded, but she didn’t smile back. Grasping hands, the two of them carefully emerged from the other side of the table. The fake cameraman and the gobsmacked thug were causing a bit of a scene, conveniently drawing attention away from Bruce and his date. Avoiding goons and partygoers alike, the two made their way out a back door without much resistance. Once outside, they rounded to the front of the building and Bruce handed the woman off to Alfred as promised.

After instructing Alfred to take the blonde wherever she wanted to go and watching to make sure they were out of sight, Bruce crossed the street and ducked surreptitiously into an alleyway. Quickly ensuring that he was alone, he tapped his earpiece to call up Jason.

“Robin.” The voice that slipped from the billionaire’s lips definitely belonged to Batman. Sometimes, even Bruce was surprised by how quickly he could switch personas.

“Already on my way. I swear, nothing exciting ever happens when I go to rich people parties with you. Are you sure you didn’t plan this?” As usual, Jason’s voice was filled with inappropriate humor.

“Positive. I’m contacting Oracle to check into another matter that may or may not be worth investigating. You think you can handle this on your own?"

“A handful of overdressed thugs with machine guns and a vendetta? Pssh, yeah. I think I’ve got this.”

“Good.” Bruce cut the communication without another word, tapping a few buttons on his earpiece to patch into Barbara’s line instead.

“Oracle, I need you to hack the camera feed at the event hall on 7th Street. I’m looking for footage of the paparazzi who attacked me about twenty minutes ago.”

“Hello to you, too.” Barbara’s tinny voice huffed into Bruce’s ear, but he could hear her fingers tapping away at a keyboard nonetheless. Several seconds of silence passed while Barbara presumably reviewed the footage. Eventually, her confused voice returned to the line.

“You did say twenty minutes ago?”

“Yes, I did. Is there a problem?” Bruce’s voice came out harsher than intended, but he didn’t want to lose this potential lead. If that’s what it was.

“Well...I do see you whipping your head to the side like you were hit by something, And your mouth is moving like you’re speaking to someone…”

“But?”

“But...I’m not sure how else to put this.” Barbara hesitated, sounding almost unsure of her own words. “There’s no one standing there.”

**Author's Note:**

> There may be an ongoing trend of short chapters while I get acclimated, but there's a TON of ground to cover. Don't be surprised if you notice a sudden word count spike down the line!
> 
> 'til next time, folks~  
> ♠♦♣♥


End file.
